A Day Late

July 3, 2024

            This morning, I had my Wednesday morning chat with my artist friend A. He arrived at the chat looking disturbed. I too was disturbed that morning, since the evening before in fact, or perhaps even since Monday. The connection was poor, and we had to sign on and off before we got a stable face-time call. By then A was frustrated. He had been sharing his thoughts about why a certain friend turning her back on him hurt so much even though four years had passed. He suggested since we both were scattered, and I had things to do it was perhaps better we sign off and get on with our days. ‘Neither of us seems to be present here,’ he said.

            I did have things to do. One of them being to sift through the anxieties that had begun building up since the weekend. I also wanted to do exercises to help with the bad fall I had on Monday, when I slipped on slimy algae in a crack on the tiles in a green field. A fall which had reversed all the progress I had made during my Phuket trip on strengthening my injured left thigh and lower back. Also the issue of the leak from the apartment above us had returned. The owner was back and now we needed to re-open the taps and deal with the leak. 

            All the peace that I had gathered in the Phuket break vanished and last night I was angry and could not sleep.

            I should have been glad about A’s suggestion but it bugged me and I went off on a tirade. ‘Ok,’ I shrugged. ‘But I am present. I may not be whole in the sense that I’m not feeling great and yes, I am a bit anxious, leaks scare me, but I am here. For me this time is like the commitment to the time we make as artists to go into our caves and sit no matter if the muse is with us or not. I mean, we still go in and sharpen our pencils on bad days. We don’t say it’s not a good day today so I’ll leave in a half hour. That’s the commitment we make to creativity and it is the same for me about friendship.’

            A broke into a smile. ‘This is what I love about our chats. We can be fully into our misery, and we can also be a bit detached and see ourselves. I haven’t been feeling sure of myself. Not confidant at all and have been scared of people thinking that I don’t bring value to the table. I feel that if I am not on and not fully able to bring something to the connection people might judge me not worthy of being around and drop me.’ 

            Something shifted. Our conversation deepened and time, our Wednesday hour together, expanded. Friendship isn’t about being with someone only when one is feeling whole. But not every friend will sit with you through those times. 

            I too had been feeling like A for months. I had hermit-ed. I had declined invitations and stayed with the emotion. I hadn’t run away from my feelings; I hadn’t run to meet people and find reassurance. I just had been. 

            And on Wednesday in Phuket, last week, after the first two restless, anxious, days, the anxiety had run itself out and I had relaxed fully into the blue, sunny, days with great Thai food, a gorgeous pool to dip into and laze by, and fun evenings with powered cocktails or wine. I had had a few insights about why I want to write about karate—it has a lot to do with my relationship to, my fear of, power. The time away had been a healing time for body and mind and self-belief. 

            Somewhere I had reconnected to passions that had felt underground, dead. My passions for inks and pens and writing, for karate, for politics and justice. I was able to see which issues I felt confidant to comment on as an expert and where I hesitated and doubted. I could see the things I censored when I wrote this blog — things I even censored from myself in some ways (and I need to explore that soon). But I felt more whole than I had before I went there. The break had been good. 

            The things that happened on my return, particularly the fall, which has brought my body back to pain, and the fear of the leak re-starting have taken away a lot of the relaxed feeling. I am unsettled. Very unsettled. Yet strength and belief remain. 

            Somewhere I feel like I have been doing something right over the last months, which admittedly had felt mostly wrong during those months, that is dissolving the veils that hid me from myself. Somewhere I am trusting my gut choices more. 

            But next week is another week and who knows what my insides will be feeling. This post is a day late and I am considering whether I should take a break from the blog.